by T. K. Rapp
Rather than dissect what he said, I changed into a pair of running shorts and a tank. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and looked at myself in the mirror, frowning at the lack of change in my appearance. My hair was so long that all I could do was put the heavy tangled mess up, and I hated it. I missed the days when I actually spent time doing something with it, and I decided to add my hair to my “fix” list.
There was a knock at the door and I answered it quickly, knowing it was Wyatt. He was dressed in clothes similar to mine, so I didn’t feel underdressed. Yet I still found myself checking him out.
“You ready?” he asked.
“Yep. Let’s go.”
I grabbed my keys and locked up as I followed behind him. He didn’t mention his note again, and neither did I.
“We can take my car if you want,” I said as we neared my trusty Bug on the sidewalk.
“Actually, my Jeep is right here,” he said, pointing to the black vehicle in front of mine. He looked at me and smiled. “Besides, I know where we’re going, you don’t.”
He unlocked my side first and held the door open so I could get in.
“So where are we going?” I asked.
“What have you seen already?”
“Let’s see: work, String Beans, Griffith Park, Mood Swings, and…the grocery?” I said, counting the places on my fingers.
“Wow, then there’s not much left for me to show you.” He laughed as he put the Jeep in gear and pulled out onto the street.
“I haven’t been to the beach yet,” I admitted.
“I know the perfect place.”
As he drove to wherever he was taking me, I took in all the pedestrian traffic at every corner and sidewalk. I don’t think I had ever seen so many people outdoors when I lived in Spring Park. It was a gorgeous May morning and it made sense that people would actually be enjoying it.
The farther we went, we got away from the high-traffic areas and entered a beach community. Small bungalow-style homes lined the streets practically one on top of the other. They were quaint yet stylish, and I envied their proximity to the ocean.
Wyatt had slowed his speed as we made our way down a busy two-lane road. A few people were carrying surfboards while others were walking or riding bikes. I couldn’t wait to feel the sand between my toes and began looking for public beach signs until he came to a stop.
“I thought we were going to the beach,” I said to him.
He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to face me, resting his arm on the steering wheel. I looked at him and then back to where we’d stopped.
“We are.” He pointed at the small white house with blue shutters. “That’s my folks’ house.”
“Oh…yeah, that’s…”
“They’re not home.” He smiled. “You won’t be meeting my parents today,” he laughed as he climbed out of car.
“That’s not what I was going to say,” I lied, following his lead.
He met me on the sidewalk and raised a brow. “No? Sorry… What were you going to say?”
I shook my head and smiled, ignoring his question. “Is this where you grew up?”
Wyatt knew I was lying, but he let me get away with it for some reason. He started walking up to the front door with his key in hand and I followed him. The house was landscaped with flowers I couldn’t identify and looked like it was straight out of a magazine for beach-lovers.
“To answer your question, I didn’t grow up here.” He opened the door and we walked in to his parents’ house.
The whitewashed wood floors were bathed in sunlight from the uncovered windows. The paneled walls dated the place a little, but it looked as if they’d spent time updating the look of the home. Pictures were placed on all the walls; some were of beach-themed items, others of family.
Wyatt disappeared around the corner, leaving me to peruse the images alone. There was a picture of an older couple laughing together and I assumed them to be his parents. As I studied it closer, Wyatt looked like he had her eyes and his dad’s nose. I couldn’t help but smile at the love and happiness in their faces before moving on to the next picture. It was an old black and white of a little boy facing the beach in all his naked glory with nothing but a shovel in one hand and a bucket in the other.
“I begged her not to put that one up,” Wyatt said from behind me.
I spun around and smiled. “That’s adorable. I would have put it up too.”
“Yeah, and it was great having it up at our old house when I was in high school. Mom loved to bring my girlfriends over to see that picture.”
“She sounds pretty great,” I laughed.
“You ready?”
“For?”
“The beach,” he said. “C’mon.”
He started walking toward the back of the small house and held the door open as he stepped out.
My breath caught in my chest as I admired the view from the patio. Their backyard was literally the beach.
“This is amazing,” I said. The patio was small, but housed a table-and-chair set. “Do they come out here often?”
“Every night,” he said, leaning against the railing. “Dad and I built this for Mom after the stroke. They moved here when I went off to college because she loves the beach, but after the stroke it was hard for her to get to the water. He thought if she could just sit outside and enjoy it, it might help.”
“And did it?”
“Yeah. A lot, actually. We ended up putting that ramp up for her to make it easier to get her to the water.”
“So you’re telling me that aside from working for some big company in New York, and running your own business, that you can build things too?”
“I know, jack of all trades, master of none.” He smirked.
“Why would you say that?” I asked, walking to where he was standing.
“That’s what my ex used to say.”
I looked at him quizzically and he elaborated.
“When I told her I was coming back here to help, she kept telling me that I needed to work on my career and let my dad deal with my mom. We argued quite a bit and then she threw that little gem at me.”
“Sounds like a peach,” I muttered.
“She wasn’t all bad,” he replied. “Wasn’t all good either.”
“I know what you mean.”
He pushed off the railing and raised his hand. “Shall we?”
I didn’t need him to say it twice. I took off my shoes and left them on the deck before taking off down the ramp and onto the warm sand. Wyatt was behind me but didn’t seem as eager to get to the water as I was. I didn’t stop until my feet were greeted by the cool Pacific Ocean. The breeze was salty against my lips and stray pieces of hair escaped my ponytail as the wind touched my face.
“Do you surf?” I asked when Wyatt came to stand next to me.
“Yep. You?”
“Nah. I’m afraid of sharks. And fish. And pretty much anything in the water.”
“But you like the water?”
“I love it. I just don’t like being in it. This,” I said, pointing to my feet, “is as far as I’ll get in.”
Something flashed in Wyatt’s eyes and before I could stop him, he threw me over his shoulder and ran into the water while I screamed and begged him to put me down. His laugh rumbled throughout his body, and I felt it rattle against me. He tried to put me in the water, but I clung to him so tightly I made it nearly impossible.
“Don’t you dare,” I threatened. “So help me, I will kill you.”
Wyatt only laughed as he tried to pry me away from him, but I managed to wrap my legs around his waist, somehow ending up on his back. His arms were wrapped under my knees, holding me up, and my toes were beneath the surface of the water.
“What the hell? Are you a spider monkey or something?” He was struggling to untangle me, but I had a death grip on him. “Okay, I promise, I won’t throw you in the water.” He laughed tiredly.
“You swear?”
“Yes. But you’re sort of ch
oking me.”
I loosened my grip only slightly and he exhaled. We were in water up to his stomach, and fear of what was beneath the surface plagued me.
“What if I just happened to fall?” Wyatt asked.
“Don’t you dare,” I laughed.
He wobbled from side to side. “I’m not sure I can carry you.”
I tightened against him and whispered in his ear, “Yes you can. Don’t drop me.”
He squeezed my thighs gently and started walking back toward the beach. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I exhaled as he continued walking until something touched my foot and I jumped off his body, landing in the water. To strangers on the beach, I probably looked like an idiot, but I was freaking out. Wyatt scooped me into his arms, keeping my body out of the water.
“Something bit me,” I said in a panic, but Wyatt looked at my foot and laughed.
“Nothing bit you.”
“My foot, it got my foot!”
“There’s nothing on your foot.”
We reached the sand and he set me on my feet and bent down to inspect my claims. When he stood up, he looked down at me and smirked.
“Your foot is fine.”
“So you’re a doctor now?” I teased.
We were both drenched, but he was the only one who deserved it after what he pulled.
“I can’t believe you did that,” I told him.
“What?” he asked, feigning innocence.
“I could have died,” I said dramatically. “That was probably a shark that touched me. You’re lucky it didn’t attack you.”
“You’re certifiable.”
“And you’re dangerous,” I laughed. “And wet.”
He looked at himself and then at me. “We can get some towels at the house,” he said as he started to walk back, but I didn’t move. “Vi?”
I sat down on the sand and lifted my face to the sky. I loved the sound of the waves crashing and the birds squawking overhead. Wyatt came and sat down next to me, keeping a safe distance, but didn’t say anything.
“I thought for sure you were going to take me to Santa Monica or someplace like that.”
“Too many people. Figured I’d show you something better.”
I glanced over my shoulder at his parents’ home and then back to him. “Where are your parents today?”
“They like to spend Saturday at the farmers’ market and then take a late lunch.”
“Good thing your Jeep has leather seats—otherwise we’d ruin them wet like this,” I said.
“I’m fine. I have clothes here,” he laughed as he got back to his feet. He extended his hand to help me up, and when he pulled I bumped into his chest. We were so close that I could feel his breath on my face. As I stared into his eyes, it was one of those moments where it feels right. I was about to concede and kiss him the way I had the other night and then he spoke.
“Still not gonna kiss you,” he said quietly.
Rejection tastes pretty nasty, but he did warn me and I couldn’t be mad. Instead, I smiled as I pushed at his chest playfully and he laughed when he stepped away, leading us back to the house. As we walked up the ramp, I grabbed my shoes and followed him inside.
“I have some stuff here, but it’s probably too big for you. But I can at least give you a dry shirt.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said.
“Wyatt? Is that you?” a man’s voice asked from somewhere inside.
“Yeah, Dad. What are you doing home?”
The man from the picture I saw earlier walked into the kitchen, his hair much grayer than I expected.
“I live here. What’s your excuse?” He gave Wyatt a friendly pat on his wet shoulder and smiled widely when he spotted me. “And who’s this?”
“Dad, this is my friend Viola. Viola, this is my dad, Joe.”
“It’s nice to meet you. Your home is lovely.”
“Thank you.” He turned to Wyatt and raised a brow. “Had I known we were expecting company, I would have made sure we were here.”
“That’s my fault,” I said. “I asked Wyatt to show me his favorite places and this was the first place he brought me to visit.”
He looked me up and down. “Why are you all wet, Viola?”
“Your son decided to toss me into the water, despite my freaking out.”
“Son, why don’t you get your friend a towel? It’s the least you could do,” he teased.
Wyatt didn’t argue; he simply left the room to do as instructed, leaving me alone with his dad.
“Well, come on and meet my wife,” Joe said sweetly. “Has Wyatt told you much about her?”
I nodded and smiled as we walked into the living room. There was a beautiful older woman sitting on the couch looking at a book. It wasn’t open and she didn’t really appear to be interested in it, but she seemed happy all the same.
“Jennie,” Joe said sweetly as he walked over to her.
She looked up and smiled, so much love in her eyes.
“There’s somebody I want you to meet.”
Jennie looked at me and then back to Joe and I saw a flash of confusion in her eyes. She remained seated and I walked over and sat next to her.
“I’m Viola, friend of Wyatt’s,” I said, extending my hand to hers.
She looked at it longer than most people and then slowly her eyes lifted to mine and a smile appeared on her face. Wyatt had told me before that she was a bit slower at doing things, so I remained quiet to give her time.
“Hello,” she said softly. She looked at her husband, who nodded, before she looked back at me. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Her voice was so soft and gentle, but her eyes looked like there was so much more she wanted to say. After a moment of silence, she squeezed my hand and then released it.
“How do you know Wyatt?” she asked slowly.
Aside from her slow speech, I would never have guessed the woman had a stroke.
“I live in his building.”
Jennie looked at Joe again and the two exchanged a look that only they knew what it meant.
“Are you his new girlfriend?” she asked.
“She’s my friend, Mom,” Wyatt answered. He walked over and kissed her cheek sweetly as he handed me a towel. He’d changed and was wearing dry clothes, and I realized I was sitting on their couch in my wet shorts.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, jumping to my feet.
“It’s fine,” Joe said. “So what are you two doing today?”
“We were just about to leave and find something to eat,” Wyatt said.
“If you want, you can stick around. I was going to grill chicken and some of the veggies we picked up today. There’s more than enough,” Joe said.
Wyatt looked over at me.
“Sounds good,” I answered.
“All righty then. Son, why don’t you come help me, and Viola, just make yourself at home.”
***
“Sorry about that,” Wyatt said.
It was late in the evening and we were almost back at the apartments. We’d spent all afternoon with his parents talking about the coffee shop and Wyatt’s crazy antics growing up.
“I had fun,” I admitted truthfully. “Your parents are great.”
After Joe and Wyatt went outside, Jennie had walked me through every room of their home, showing me the things she’d collected to decorate it. I could tell from the pictures throughout that they were a close family who had spent a lot of time together.
She took me into the room where Wyatt had lived until he’d moved out, and it was evident that he left quite a bit behind. Jennie turned to me and I patiently waited while she collected her thoughts.
“I’m glad he finally left,” she said.
“Really? Why?”
She walked over and sat on the bed and patted her hand on the spot next to her. I joined her and she placed her hand on my lap. I would have normally recoiled from such an action by a stranger, but something about Jennie was comforting
and familiar. Maybe it was that she was as sweet and loving as my own mom.
“I wasn’t always…like this,” she said, referring to her stroke. “I want him to be happy…I don’t want him to worry about me.”
“He loves you,” I said thoughtfully.
“I know.” She looked around the room and her eyes were filled with tears. “He needs to live his life. I’m…okay. I’m glad he found a reason to move out.”
“Did she talk your ear off?” he asked.
“She shared a few things,” I answered.
“Oh yeah? Like what?
“That you were a handful,” I laughed.
“Are you shocked?”
“Not in the least.”
He found a parking spot and we got out of the Jeep. As we walked toward the building, I stopped and looked at Wyatt.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you for hanging with my parents. I really didn’t know they’d be back so soon.”
“They’re sweet. I can see why you are the way you are.”
“So I’m not the pain in the ass you thought?”
I didn’t have a chance to answer because Callie was rushing toward us from the entrance.
“Where have you been?” she asked. “We’ve been calling you.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Both of you!”
I reached into my purse and found that I had several missed calls and texts on my phone.
Wyatt looked at his and held it up. “Dallas just called.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, my concern growing with the urgency in her tone.
“Do you play poker?”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Deadly,” she answered, still completely straight-faced.
“Yes, why?” Wyatt asked.
“Dallas decided that tonight is poker night. Are you in?”
I looked at Wyatt and Callie, both wearing smiles on their faces, and nodded. “Sure. Why not?”
“Awesome! Dallas is going down!” she laughed, dragging me behind her. “So where were you anyway?”
“The beach,” I said, glancing back at Wyatt, who wasn’t far behind. “Hanging with my friend.”
Chapter 15